Demon hunters of the Caribbean
by Elenelathuin
Summary: Pirate of the CaribbeanSupernatural crossover. Slash SamWill, JackDean Our favourite demon hunters are gonna fall into our favourite pirate's laps, what could be more fun? pirates, demons and lots of rum?


Inter temporal rips in the space time continuum…and a vampire. 

((Not a pretty title but it sounds all sci fi and cool, I'll try not to go too physicsy in this, put it all down to magic and not get carried away with the explanation. Just a quick note before I start to say I own neither Supernatural nor Pirates of the Caribbean-nor unfortunately Sam, Dean, Jack or Will  -I don't even own the idea of inter temporal rips though I have no idea who does. This version is kinda borrowed from Kate and Leopold-another film whose ideas and characters I do not own in case you were wondering, though if I ever find a temporal rip and go back in time I'll make sure I do and get lots of money from it.

So now you know how little I own get on and read the story, please review and feel free to whinge, moan and-hopefully-praise anything I've written. Also any ideas for plot or wibbles about pairings will be read, thought about and probably ignored but I'd appreciate them all the same.

One last thing before I bugger off…this probably holds spoilers for PotC2 and SN season 1 finale but I've totally made up what happens after and it's not really integral to the plot so if you can work out what's borrowed-I never steal-and what's created good on ya. Also does anyone know if we're gonna get a SN season 2?))

Somewhere in the US, present day

Sam and Dean were on the road again, as it should be. Two brothers against a world of demons and darkness. Sam had thought about leaving; going back to collage, going back to a 'normal' life. It wasn't as if Dean couldn't take care of himself. But he couldn't. How could he after all that had happened. Yes he'd always wanted to live the 'normal' life, normal job, normal friends. The nice little house with the white picket fence Dean always laughed at and so often ridiculed. When other kids dreamed of becoming doctors, pop stars and astronauts, all he'd wanted was a demon free life. He'd told his brother enough times that once they'd found their dad, once the demon was gone for good so was he. Back to normality; the job, the house, the life he so craved…

But he couldn't do that now. If he was honest with himself he'd known it would never work. Even after they'd found their dad. Tracked down the demon that killed Jess, the creature that took their mother. Even after the near death accident that had almost taken their lives and the months of hardship after that that had eventually culminated in the removal of said demon from this plain of being at the cost of their father, John Winchester's life. He could never go back.

It wasn't even that this life of death and destruction had tainted his soul, dragging him permanently into the world of demon hunting as it had done Dean. His brother who would give up anything for his family. Who had almost fallen apart with their father's death. Who would, he was almost certain, fall apart if he ever left. Who had nothing else to live for but this life, this job, this death. No he wasn't Dean. Sam just knew that if faced with that life, that perfect, normal, average life, the life he had wanted almost as long as he could remember, there would always be something missing. There would forever be a Jess shaped hole in his world.

Whilst he was off chasing demons, fighting for his life, fighting for his brother's life, the hole didn't seem so big. But if given the time to think, in a comfortable chair or a bed he actually owned, he knew that hole would grow into a chasm to swallow him whole. He knew in his heart that Jess had been the one, his one and only love. And clichéd as that may sound he knew it was the truth. And why shouldn't it be so? In the world he lived in populated by ghosts and ghouls around every corner, why couldn't his soul have a mate. It's one true match. His soul mate. And she had been it. And he had lost her.

So he couldn't go back to a regular life. No more collage. No white picket fence. He was as bound to this life now as Dean was, and at least here he could keep his brother from going mad…or at least madder. If only his brother's taste in music didn't send him insane.

The sound of Metallica thudded through the car making his already aching head pound. "Does it really have to be so loud?"

"What's the point in listening to Metallica if it isn't loud?" Dean asked having to raise his voice to be heard over his own personal, ear splitting sound track.

Sam merely rolled his eyes knowing he could never win this argument. "So where are we headed now?" He'd been too tired to ask last night, too lost in thought this morning, but he hoped that maybe the music could be turned down for the explanation. No such luck.

"We're going to the Big Apple Sammy!"

Sam practically snarled at the use of his nick name; Sammy should have ended when the podgy 12 year old Sam lost weight and grew up. But of course it hadn't. He didn't mind it so much in those demon infested moments when it meant Dean was really scared, really worried about him. But now he knew the name, like the loud music, was only there to bait him. "Why?" He practically yelled over screaming guitars and headache inducing drums.

"Thought we could check out those alligator in sewer rumours."

"You have got to be kidding."

"Yeah, 'cos you know _we'll_ never get a chance to check out any sewers." Dean replied with more than a touch of sarcasm. They seemed to find themselves chasing God knows what down extensive and disgusting stretches of sewer across the length and breadth of the country far too often. So far they'd found a shape shifter, a rather soggy werewolf, a pissed off banshee-ad hadn't that been fun what with the never ending ear splitting echoes and all-vampires, ghosts, demons…but no alligators, yet. "Actually I thought for once we'd stay as far from sewers as we can get." He brother continued twisting in his seat to grab a pile of news paper clippings from the back whist somehow remaining on the road and never dropping anywhere near the legal speed limit.

Sam probably should have been scared. It would be ironic after all if, having chased so many ghosts and demons back to hell, they were eventually taken down not by some creature of darkness but by Dean's reckless driving. But reckless as the blatant disregard for speed limits surely was Dean had never once caused even the slightest fender bended. Admittedly any care in his driving probably stemmed more from love of his car-a 1967 Chevy Impala, black-than from any care for his own safety. But the fact remained that Dean, reckless though he may be, was far too good a driver for any harm to come to them that way. At least not without demon intervention. No Sam wasn't worried about dying some pointless death out here. The brothers would go down like their dad. Fighting till the end.

Shaking those morbid thoughts from his mind for the moment Sam took the scraps of print and quickly shuffled through the scanning the headlines and quickly determining what they were after; "Vampire?"

"Well something's been stalking the streets, or should I say rooftops of New York City. Fifteen dead already and the police haven't a scrap of evidence. The fact that the bodies were all exsanguinated, barely a drop of blood left between them, kinda points to vampires…again."

"So we're trading sewer 'gators for rooftop vamps." Sam muttered, at least it wouldn't smell so bad. And vampires were relatively simple things to kill, stake through the heart, decapitation hell even fire could kill them. The main problem would be catching up to the damn things. And oh yeah, they'd have to hunt at night-nothing new there-but maybe he should try and get some more sleep while he still could. If he could with that music blaring at him all the time.

New York City, present day

Sam was sat on a roof top high above sprawling New York City shaking gravel from his boots. This was the side of demon hunting so often forgotten or ignored. The little inconveniences that filled his days between the long drives and frantic fights that never seemed to happen on TV. I mean does the Chosen One ever have to stop to shake grave dust from her boot? Do the Charmed Ones ever get blisters from chasing after demons in their high heels? No. Sam Winchester however did have gravel in his boots and even without the high heels his blisters had blisters. And to top it all off he had his brother glaring down at him as if this was the most inopportune time to be stopping. As if they hadn't spent the last three hours fruitlessly searching for some sign of vampire activity.

"Hurry up Sammy."

And of course he had to call him that. Not bothering to answer Sam shook the last traces of grit from his boot and tugged in back onto his foot tying the laces in record time under his brother's bored glare. He wondered if there was any chance of them finding anything tonight. Another thing conveniently missed from the TV, those incredibly dull hours of waiting, of searching, of doing nothing that would bore the viewing public to death. Hours that could be skipped in a heart beat on TV but that he had to live through.

Fortunately, as if fate or some annoying God had been listening in to his thoughts, he didn't have that much longer to wait. Five minutes and a rooftops over the brothers heard a scream. Not really that unusual for New York City at night. In fact most people would have studiously ignored the sound as either coming from some drunk revellers, or else from something they didn't want to get involved in. Heroes didn't last long in a city like this. Sam and Dean however made straight for the noise.

The vampire was already feeding when they arrived, teeth sunk deep into some poor woman's neck as it swallowed away her life blood. The woman was already failing, movements jerky, screams turned to pathetic whimpers. At the sound of the brother's approach the creature threw her from him not even watching at she hit the ground unmoving. It hissed showing bright white fangs in a bloody red mouth and laughed as it saw the stake in Dean's hand-how cold some mere mortal hope to kill _him_, a vampire?

Dean didn't even bother slowing, charging straight into the vampire stake slamming down towards its chest, towards its heart. The stake never hit. The creature span easily away dragging Dean off balance and leaving him sprawling on the rooftop. Then it turned on Sam, eyes shining red in the moonlight. Teeth and claws at the ready, but Sam didn't give it a chance to use them; flinging a steaming spray of holy water into the vampire's face and leaving it blinded and screaming.

The vampire hissed and made to run, apparently it had underestimated these two, better to cut and run now while it was still ahead. But it hadn't counted on Dean recovering so quickly. Charging after it, stake at the ready. The creature barely had time to react before the slim demon hunter's body slammed into it sending it sprawling towards the raised roof edge, stake raised and ready to strike again. The two grappled clawing and punching as the vampire tried not to get killed; one hand clasped to the stake holding wrist the other lashing out in an attempt to get this annoying human as far away form it as possible. But Dean wasn't giving in and the holy water had severely hurt it and to make matters worse the other human with his own stake was trying to get in on the action. With no options left the vampire threw himself backwards over the edge of the wall knowing that he could easily survive the many storied fall, not so sure about the two mortals he dragged with him.

Sam was totally off balance with the clawed hand grabbed his shirt dragging him over the edge of the roof. Instincts sharpened through years of training drilled into him by his father made him grab at the edge, fingers finding purchase for a moment only before he was dragged down, skin torn from his fingers and palms, nails broken as he scrabbled against the wall rapidly rushing past him as if it, not him, were the one moving. Below him he was vaguely conscious of Dean struggling in the creature's grasp, trying to get a stake into it even as they fell to their doom. Well, he'd always known they'd go down fighting some evil or other sooner or later. He'd just hoped it would be later rather than sooner, rather than now.

He had just decided that maybe now was the time to just give up and scream when two things happened. The first was that Dean managed to somehow twist his wrist free and thrust the stake deep into the creature's chest setting off a chain reaction that worked through the vampire's body turning his flesh to ash and thereby removing the fist from Sam's shirt. Not particularly useful barely a story up from the pavement and certain, painful doom.

The second thing wasn't quite so obvious. Sam felt it as a slight tingling through his whole body as he screwed his eyes tight shut against a view of his death. A death that apparently never happened as a moment later instead of hitting solid pavement he slammed into what felt impossibly like water. It tasted like water too as he struggled to break the surface, salty sea water threatening to fill his lungs.

Feeling far too cliché for the second time that day Sam 'headed towards the light' breaking the surface spluttering a gasping for breath an equally confused and spluttering Dean at his side. "Well this is new." His brother muttered as soon as he could breath again, "Where the hell are we?"


End file.
